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"Differential"
By Zane Gray

Rating: Most of the story is PG, but expect some seriously R-rated bumps along the way.
Disclaimer: Star Trek owned by CBS/Paramount.
Description: In Prologue


Chapter Five

"All I'm saying is, would it kill the Vikings to win a Solar Bowl just once? I mean, the Hadley Highlanders? They didn't even have a winning record last year for crying out loud! And they've only just let the Lunar teams in the league!"

Malcolm smiled at Ensign Mayweather patiently, as he adjusted the settings on the phase-rifle for target practice. The Solar Bowl broadcast had arrived via subspace radio over the weekend, and more than half of the ship's crew had watched the game in the Mess Hall the previous evening. It hadn't gone well for Travis's team.

Malcolm tried to cheer him up. "Well... it's not like they didn't have a chance. Until Carver threw that last interception, they were right in the thick of it. But look on the bright side - at least it was an exciting game."

Travis just shook his head in disgust. "You call that a bright side? I'm not gonna be able to watch another football game for the rest of my life."

Malcolm handed him the rifle with a wry smile. "That's what you said last year, when the Vikings lost in the playoffs. The real problem here is that you're watching the wrong kind of football."

"Here we go again..."

Malcolm was undaunted. "You mark my words - some of those so-called football players of yours wouldn't last ten minutes in a World-rules match. You ready?"

Travis nodded and Malcolm activated the target projector. "Okay. Thirty seconds, starting... now!"

The Ensign began firing the weapon in short bursts, striking the floating target frequently as Malcolm watched. When thirty seconds were up, the target chirped and disappeared. Malcolm checked his PADD, and his eyebrows went up in surprise.

"Eighty-seven percent! Not bad, Travis. A little more practice and you might even give some of my men a run for their money."

Travis laughed, handing back the weapon. "I'll keep that in mind." Then he frowned. "By the way... have you seen Commander Tucker lately? It's not like him to miss a Solar Bowl."

Malcolm shook his head absently. "Not since that away mission a few days ago. We were supposed to finish the phase cannon upgrades this week, but from what I hear, both he and T'Pol got pretty beat up on the surface. Apparently, there was some kind of animal attack."

"Well, here's the thing... I was running the flight deck when they came back to the ship. It didn't look like they'd been attacked to me. And no one ever radioed anything about an emergency."

"Why don't you ask Hoshi what happened?"

"I tried. She's not talking."

Malcolm scoffed. "That doesn't sound like Hoshi."

"Tell me about it. I don't know, Malcolm... there's something weird going on."

Lieutenant Reed finished checking the phase-rifle and stowed it in one of the Armory's equipment lockers. When he was done, he turned to Travis with a smile.

"I wouldn't worry about it. Trip hasn't exactly had the best of luck on these away missions. If I know the Commander, he's probably hiding out in his quarters right now with his nose buried in some technical manual..."


...


"HHhhuuuuuggghhhhh... ooooooohhhhh... uuuuuhhhHHHHHH!!!"

T'Pol collapsed in release, gasping desperately for oxygen. Fortunately, Trip had just enough presence of mind left to hold her tightly against his body, which is all that kept her from slipping to the floor of the shower. They clung together for long minutes as the steaming water burned over their skin. Finally, T'Pol opened her eyes and took him in lazily.

"It seems you were correct, Commander. Sexual activity in the shower can be exhilarating."

Trip grinned, breathing heavily. "You see? Stick with me, T'Pol. I can show you things."

"Indeed." She traced a rivulet of water down his chest with quiet interest. "Can you... show me again?"

Trip looked at her in amazement. "Where have you been all my life?" She was about to answer when Trip suddenly placed his fingertips against her lips. T'Pol raised an eyebrow and spoke around them.

"That was a rhetorical question."

Trip nodded in amusement. T'Pol frowned.

"One day I will learn to recognize... ooohhh..."

Her voice trailed off as Trip began rubbing the tip of one of her ears softly between his thumb and forefinger. He laughed, infinitely pleased at her reaction.

"Have ever I told you how sexy your ears are?"

She struggled to form words under the sudden assault of pleasure. But before she could reply, Trip grew serious.

"T'Pol... I've been meaning to ask something. Before the other day, had you ever... I mean, had you...?"

She opened her eyes. "No. I was virgin." T'Pol grew suddenly self-conscious. "I am sorry if I was inadequate in any way--"

Trip interrupted firmly. "You could never be inadequate, T'Pol. Not ever." He looked down. "I'm just... I'm really honored by that. By you." He glanced back up at her. "I can't exactly say the same I'm afraid."

For once, T'Pol understood what he was trying to say. "Commander, you need not worry. I am untroubled by your previous intimate encounters. It is my understanding that sex is a natural, and even important, activity for maintaining physical and mental well being in Humans."

"Sure, but I--"

Now she silenced him with her fingers. "Besides, I am quite certain that none of your former lovers could do this..." She moved against him slightly... and Trip suddenly looked at her, stunned. Her eyes smiled at him.

"Vulcans have exceptional muscle control."

"Darlin'... you ain't kidding!"

Suddenly, Trip moved too... and T'Pol's eyes fogged over with a surge of passion. Then she kissed him, pinning him firmly against the shower wall, and there were no more words for some time.


...


Hours later, Lieutenant Reed finally managed to find a break in his work long enough to steal a quick bite to eat in the Mess Hall. As was his practice, Malcolm selected and ate his dinner almost without noticing what it was. He was much more interested in the data displayed on his PADD. Today, it happened to be the latest research from Starfleet on the development of a deployable photon torpedo.

I'd bloody well love to get my hands one on those, he thought enviously. Next time the Suliban try to get the drop on us, they'd be in for quite a surprise...

Malcolm finished his sandwich quickly and then headed back to his quarters, barely looking up from his reading the whole time. But as he walked down the corridor, he happened to bump into Commander Tucker and Sub-Commander T'Pol on their way to the Captain's Mess.

Trip smiled at him. "Hey, Malcolm."

T'Pol nodded politely. "Good evening, Lieutenant."

Malcolm mumbled an absent greeting as they passed and went back to reading. Then, after a moment, he suddenly stopped. He hadn't just seen Trip and T'Pol holding hands... had he? He looked back in the direction they'd gone, but they'd already disappeared inside the Mess Hall.

Malcolm puzzled over it for a few seconds... and then finally shook his head.

Nah... couldn't be.


...


Meanwhile, Ensign Sato sat at her station on the Bridge, serenaded by the sounds of deep space over her earpiece. She scanned the ship's subspace receiver randomly up and down the scale, listening for the telltale signs of intelligent transmissions. She could have automated the process if she wished. In fact, the ship's communications software was designed to search the subspace radio spectrum far more efficiently than any set of Human ears ever could. But Hoshi found that listening to subspace was soothing. And lately, she needed all the soothing she could get.

Hoshi wasn't a woman with an overactive sex drive, but she did have needs just the same. They'd been unexpectedly awakened during her last shore leave and now she was more aware of them than ever. That normally wouldn't be a problem... except that it was going be a very long time before she forgot the sight of two of her commanding officers having sex. The fact of the matter was, she'd always secretly liked Commander Tucker. And Sub-Commander T'Pol exuded her own exotic brand of sex appeal without ever even realizing it. What the two of them had been doing together in the Decontamination chamber... well, that was flat out hot. The Ensign squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. No doubt about it... their next trip to Risa definitely couldn't come fast enough.

Hoshi absently glanced up... and happened to notice Travis stretching his muscles at the Helm. She devoured the sight eagerly. Interesting, she thought with a smile. Very interesting...

Just at that moment, Hoshi suddenly heard something through the normal hiss of static in her earpiece. Something unusual. Something... Vulcan maybe? Travis' physique momentarily forgotten, the young Ensign began working to isolate the signal.


...


"Captain, did you know that the longest Human facial hair measured some four-point-two meters?"

Archer looked up from his plate, amused. "No... can't say that I did, T'Pol."

"Did you know that the largest Human tumor weighed fifty-two-point-four kilograms upon removal?"

About to take a bite of his prime rib, the Captain suddenly hesitated. "Uhh... no, I didn't."

"Did you know that the longest continuous dance marathon was three weeks, two days and nineteen hours?"

"You don't say?"

"Indeed. According to record, it ended with a six-and-a-half hour tango."

Archer set his fork down, puzzled. "T'Pol, what's all this about?"

Trip half smiled at him, looking embarrassed. "She, ah... she sorta caught me flippin' through the Guinness Book o' World Records the other day. Hasn't let me live it down since."

"The Guinness Book of--? You're kidding, right?"

He shrugged. "Already read all the engineering manuals I could find. I was bored."

The Captain shook his head in disbelief and glanced back at his Science Officer. "Let me guess... you memorized the whole book?"

T'Pol glanced up from her salad, leveling an arched eyebrow pointedly at Trip. "One never knows when such obviously valuable data will be useful, Captain. For example, did you know that the largest ball of twine was more than six meters in diameter?"

Archer laughed again as he resumed eating. "No."

"Did you know that the longest sustained note played on an alto saxophone was twelve hours, twenty-two minutes?"

"No, I sure didn't."

"Did you know that the largest known penis in the animal kingdom is--" Trip choked on his food. Thankfully, the com whistled.

The Captain laughed again, more than a little uncomfortably, and glanced at his Chief Engineer. "Saved by the bell, Commander." He stood and activated the wall com. "Archer here. Go ahead."

Hoshi's voice came over the speaker. "Captain, we're receiving a signal on one of the Vulcan emergency bands. It sounds an awful lot like a distress call."

That got everyone's immediate attention. T'Pol and Trip stood as the Captain replied.

"Have Travis lay in an intercept course. I'll be right there." Archer switched off the com and started toward the door. "T'Pol?"

She nodded and fell into step behind him. Trip frowned. "Hey - what about me?"

Archer paused. "You're still on duty restriction."

"So is T'Pol! Come on, Capt'n... don't make me start beggin' here..."

T'Pol turned to Archer. "That would be a most unfortunate sight."

Archer rolled his eyes. "All right... let's go you two."


...


"She called the T'Hath, Jonathan. Apparently she's a Vulcan fast courier. Crew complement of five."

"Five? That's an awfully small ship, Admiral. Any idea what she's doing this far away from home?"

Admiral Forrest scowled on the small viewscreen. "I'm afraid the Vulcans didn't offer that information. However, they're quite concerned that a rescue mission be mounted with all haste. Ambassador Soval made the request personally."

In his Ready Room, Archer nodded. "We're almost there now. I assume the Vulcans are sending ships as well?"

"At least three cruisers, but the closest is some thirty-six hours away at maximum warp. You're on your own for the moment."

"Understood, Admiral. We'll do our best."

"Be careful, Jonathan. The distress call was incomplete, but there are some indications that the T'Hath may have come under attack. The Vulcans are analyzing the transmission further. We'll contact you when we know more. Forrest out."

Archer sat at his desk for a long moment. Then Ensign Mayweather's voice came over the com.

"Captain, we're approaching the planet."

"On my way, Travis..."


...


Archer entered the Bridge and was greeted by the sight of a white-washed world filling the main viewer. Travis looked back from the Helm.

"Now entering standard orbit, sir."

"Very well, Mister Mayweather." The Captain glanced at T'Pol, who was working at the Science station. "Is it inhabited?"

"Negative, Captain. It is Menshara-class, but just barely. The surface is undergoing a period of runaway glaciation. The average global temperature is negative nineteen degrees Celsius."

"Lovely." He turned to the Tactical station. "Polarize the hull plating, Malcolm. Keep your eyes peeled for hostile ships in the area."

"Aye, sir. For the moment, sensors show all clear."

T'Pol came to his side. "Is there reason for concern, Captain?"

"The High Command seems to think that the T'Hath may have been deliberately attacked."

At that moment, Trip called out from the Situation Room at the rear of the Bridge. "Captain, I'm reading an energy field of some kind down on the planet. It's messin' with our surface scans."

The Captain and T'Pol joined him around the display table, on which they could see a large area of snow-covered landscape. Archer noted the visibly indistinct area on the scan. "That's odd. Could it be coming from the Vulcan ship? A camouflage field of some kind?"

"To my knowledge, the T'Hath is not equipped with such a device." She tapped a few keys and a small outline appeared in the middle of the blurred area. "I believe I have located the ship."

"Life signs?"

"Indeterminate. It is likely that the energy field will impede both communications and transporter operation as well as our sensors, Captain."

"Do you have a recommendation?"

T'Pol thought about it for a moment. "We will obviously need to send a shuttlepod down to effect a rescue. As the T'Hath is a Vulcan ship, I am the obvious choice to command the mission. If they've suffered damage, Commander Tucker's engineering skills may prove useful as well."

Archer glanced from his Science Officer to his Chief Engineer and back. Then he lowered his voice so only they could hear.

"T'Pol, do you really think that's wise given your... situation? Maybe I should lead the mission..."

"Captain, it would be unwise for you to place yourself in a situation where you might be unable to contact the ship. Given the possibility of attack, Lieutenant Reed and Ensign Mayweather are needed here. Likewise, Ensign Sato is most useful at her station attempting to maintain contact with the away team. That leaves the Commander and myself, and five empty seats for potential survivors." She hesitated, then addressed the Captain's real concern. "I can have the Doctor prepare a hormone injection in case it should be necessary while I'm on the surface."

Archer considered this a moment, then nodded. "Well... as usual, I can't argue with your logic. Get what you need from Phlox and report to the flight deck immediately. The sooner you two are back onboard, the better I'll feel."

"Aye, sir."

"And be careful. Both of you."

With that, Trip and T'Pol stepped into the turbolift and left the Bridge. They rode down to E Deck in companionable silence. Then Trip leaned over and spoke softly in T'Pol's ear.

"Hey, uh... that whole thing about the biggest penis in the animal kingdom? Just for kicks, you were gonna say mine... right?"

T'Pol's eyebrow arched in irritation, but Trip saw the amused sparkle in her eyes. "You flatter yourself, Commander. The correct answer would be the blue whale."

"Spoil sport."

"However, yours is undeniably impressive..."


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